It was January, 2020. (It isn’t, any more. It’s nearly May. So this is time travel.) Temps in the mid-60s (F) here in southern Arizona, and the team was happy to settle in for four glorious nights. Some hiking, some birding, some picture-making, some dog-walking, and some trips to pick up assorted prescriptions from local pharmacies.
You would hardly know you’re just outside of Tucson here at Catalina, named for the mountain range pictured here. Our pull-through campsite was spacious and in top shape. Nothing quite as exciting as a level pad at the end of a long drive.
On the day we arrived, we just hung around the campground. So-called golden light appeared at the appointed hour, so I tried to grab some landscape shots of the glowing Catalina Mountains. See if you can find the bighorn sheep in the picture! (Hint: there isn’t one.)
I’m sorry; I have not included any photos of the pharmacies we visited. Here’s the thing: at some point I began to rely on “maintenance medications” to stay alive and well. Nothing exotic; all the usual suspects. The renewal timing of these 90-day prescriptions didn’t align properly with our travel schedule, so my doctor’s office kindly provided me with printed prescriptions to bring along on our trip. I used ’em! And they worked, apparently, because here I still am.
When you go anywhere in southern Arizona these days you are likely to see a Javelina. I cannot spell this word, according to the spell-checker. Anyway here are two adults and their baby, holding very still, as if frozen in time, posing just outside a Safeway pharmacy in Tucson’s northern reaches. They are among a wide array of creatures that don’t grow to 760 feet in height (or length).
The place is loaded with Saguaro cacti, and a generous supply of trails helps one approach and admire them. These amazing plants (trees?) actually can grow to more than 700 feet in height. No they can’t.
Another day, another afternoon, another golden-lit stretch of prairie. This is the only roadrunner I have seen in my short life. I can’t remember why I walked away from our campsite, with my camera, at this time, but because of this foray I have now seen one more roadrunner than Sooz, who did not accompany me. Doug: One, Sooz: Zero, in the roadrunner category.
One day the entire team went for a stroll. The terriers only do bits of strolling, now, as their little terrier knees and tibia and whatnot are just not up to long treks. Come to think of it, neither are mine.
Here is an example of the trails to be found at Catalina State Park. Many of them are multi-use, and that includes equestrian use, and we noticed this: there were horses, and people riding them, and they (the horses) looked reasonably well nourished; but we saw no evidence, along the trails, of the horses having eaten (and then digested) anything. There was some discussion about whether equestrian types pick up after their mounts the same way we pick up after our terriers. No conclusion was reached.
On a separate, human-only stroll (the terriers napped), we came upon a wash. This is a southern Arizona term for Place Your Shoes Are Gonna Get Wet, If It Rained Recently. Refreshing, it was. I am glad I didn’t drop my camera into the stream.
Sometimes Sooz would kindly pooch-sit while I explored. I saw things.
Here is a thing I saw: a hummingbird. I have heard that they, also, cannot grow to be over 700 feet tall — but it’s kind of fun to think about. The movie would feature a young Raymond Burr, and English dubbed over Japanese. Caused by radiation!
Neither the sparrows nor the cacti along the park’s trails were exotic. But they would be quite the discovery if found in, say, western Washington, USA, in January. That goes for the blue sky, too.
No bighorn sheep, or goats of any kind, have been Photoshopped into this image. But look closely and you might find one (or even two!). Let me know.
During our stay near Tucson, we did a lot of poking around online in search of sail switches for our ailing furnace. Out of stock, everywhere — but one site shared promising news about an incoming shipment of new product, that they could then push out, pronto to people like us. So we ordered a pair (not just one; not our first rodeo) of sail switches, with the shipment directed toward California friends we expected to see later in the month. In the meantime, we had only three more upcoming nights of dry-camping — when we would need our furnace to work. We would have to muddle through.
On our way out of town, en route to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, we stopped at a Costco warehouse. It was a little hard to find, and parking was a challenge, but it had to be done: this was one of the few Tucson-area pharmacies that could fill little Wally’s prescription refill. That’s right, Wally is on maintenance meds, too, and his are truly exotic. Sooz spent some hours on the phone with our vet at home and various pharmacy professionals at various pharmacies, and it was not the most fun she had, I think, on this trip. But she got Wally’s meds, and the rest of the team appreciated it.
We then spent four or five hours braving a bumpy road, gusty winds, and some border patrol checkpoints, heading westward and a bit further south. Good friends had encouraged us to go to this next place, and so we pretty much had to go. We could have chosen a better route. I will explain.
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